


I’m Only Me When I’m With You

by GMMythicalBeast



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Bullying, Heartbreak, M/M, Mystrade fluff, Self-Harm, Teenlock
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-13
Updated: 2015-09-13
Packaged: 2018-04-20 15:35:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4792931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GMMythicalBeast/pseuds/GMMythicalBeast
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mycroft Holmes never believed in true love, nor just the word love in itself. It was due to a past experience in his childhood caused by Siger Holmes. It wasn't until his very first day of Secondary when, perhaps, he'd finally believe in the love again. It was all due to the brunet in his math class. He knew that maybe his year would be splendid for once. Though, he definitely had his obstacles. The brunet had a girlfriend, was three years older than Mycroft, and his last year at the school. Mycroft was shy and socially awkward.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I’m Only Me When I’m With You

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all, and here it is! My first Mystrade fanfiction in which I plan to write multiple chapters for. The first chapter is a bit slow, but I promise that this story will be well-worth reading. So, please enjoy chapter one!  
> ~MycroftSebastianHolmes

“True love doesn’t mean being inseparable; it means being separated and nothing changes” 

 

Some people never believe in true love, and they have all the right in the world. However, what is the meaning of love? Or true love? Some say that the meanings of both words have to be found within; that true love can only be experienced and uncovered. However, others like a certain ginger-haired teen would tell you otherwise. He would tell you that love is just an emotion, and having emotions is not an advantage. The hatred of the word ‘love’ grew from a childhood experience.

It was 1974, and our ginger-haired boy was only eight years old. Now, normal eight year olds love. They love sports and food, dogs and cats, and most importantly, they love their parents. Mycroft Sebastian Holmes, our intelligent and impertinent ginger-haired boy, simply liked things. He liked learning and science, animals and biology, and food. He didn’t necessarily love. It’s as if he was incapable of the emotion. He used to love his parents, however, it was his father who ruined his ability to love.

Once, after a long and arduous day of school,the eight year old came home to find the house empty. An empty house was perfectly fine for Mycroft. Though he was young, he could certainly take care of himself. Mycroft dropped his backpack off in his room, and shut himself in the bathroom. He stood on a stool and peered up at his face to analyse what the other kids had been talking about. Earlier that day, an older boy in Mycroft’s grade had been laughing at his appearance. Even though they lived in Northern England, gingers were a bit rare in his town. The older boy had pointed out Mycroft’s hair and freckles, and made the whole class stare, point, and laugh at his features. He really did not understand what was happening. Although they laughed, he wasn’t so sure why. He was born that way. What was wrong?

He looked at himself in the mirror, studying his face. Bright ginger hair that sat perfectly on his head, extravagant blue eyes, freckles dotted everywhere, a bit of a chubby face, thin lips, and a large nose. That was what he noticed. Mycroft actually liked what he saw. He still didn’t understand what those kids said, yet he didn’t care.

Mycroft washed up, washing his face and scrubbing his hands. He noted the time on the clock of 13:26. Mondays were usually early dismissal for primary school. As he walked down the steps, his father’s car pulled up into the long driveway. The younger ginger smiled brightly and ran to the door to greet his father.

Siger Holmes, matching the same resemblance as his son but much older features, stepped out of the car. However, something odd happened next. Siger helped a young blonde woman out of the car next. Mycroft froze in his spot. His mother had graying brown hair… Mycroft got on his hands and knees and crawled over to the large glass window that looked out into the garden. He watched carefully from his position. The older ginger, Siger, held the young woman against the car, and the two exchanged a long kiss. Mycroft, still spying from the window, started to time the kiss on his Einstein watch. The kiss lasted forty-six seconds before the two came tumbling through the door still on top of each other. The child squeaked silently in his place and dove behind the couch. Siger had the woman pinned against the wall, trailing his lips down her neck. “Shit.” He grunted, breaking away so that his lips ghosted above her ear. “We only have an hour before my son gets home.” The blonde woman grabbed his hand. “I only need thirty minutes. Bedroom?” He smirked and soon Mycroft’s father was pulling a stranger up to where his mum and dad slept. 

Mycroft didn’t know what was going on, but he knew that only a mum and dad do those sort of things, and she most definitely wasn’t his mum. He took off, feeling hot tears trailing down his cheeks. Leaving the backpack behind and on the steps, he fled to his treehouse in the backyard.Once in the comfort of his fortress, he grabbed his stuffed dog toy and held it to his chest. Slowly he fell to his side and sobbed. He sobbed because he didn’t understand, he sobbed because he felt betrayed. Most importantly, he cried because he wanted his mother. He wanted to be held. 

Siger and the mystery woman had taken their thirty minutes in full, shagging like the traitors they were. Both had wedding rings on their fingers, and both disposed of them. The blonde’s, also named Mia, tossed hers onto a pile of clothes. Siger set his on the night stand. However, it wouldn’t occur to either that as Mia left, she left her ring as well. 

The elder ginger helped her out to the road, where she agreed to catch a cab. When Siger said his farewell, he went back in the house to see that his son’s backpack was sitting on the steps, thirty minutes before Mycroft was even supposed to be home. His face went dull when he remembered. Monday’s schedule for primary meant that his son had been home for nearly an hour. As quick as lightning, he started to search around the house, checking every room and finally the tree house, for his son.

Siger found his crying son and repeatedly apologised while pulling him into a hug. Mycroft screamed and jolted from his tree house… His fortress... 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Seven years later, and the Holmes still never forgave his father. Meghan Holmes, Mycroft’s mother, had found the ring, and she did find out. Their relationship was at risk of divorce, but the baby of the family, Sherlock, changed their mind. Both parents loved the child, and neither wanted to split custody. Therefore, Siger apologised and made an oath with the church never to be unfaithful again. In fact, he never was again. They were actually a happy family.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Mycroft was finally fifteen, which meant he could finally grow up. All his life he was treated like some sort of disobedient child. However, he had a feeling that secondary school would be different. People would finally see that he wasn’t just some ‘poshy dick’, but that really was his intelligence. Mycroft never tried to be a posh bastard. He just tried to show that smarts were more important than popularity. He ended up being hated and bullied.

“It’ll be different this year. It’ll be a great year.” The Holmes muttered in the mirror at himself. His ginger hair no longer sat perfectly on his head. It was a fluffy mess that must always be tamed with gels and mousse. His long, permanently curled fringe hung down and poked him in the eye. He cursed silently and grabbed the can of mousse. It was his first day. He had to look fabulous. The white foam was rubbed between his hands and spread through his hair. Mycroft grabbed a comb, finally completing the hair portion. Mycroft took one final glance in the mirror to check his uniform. The black blazer laid perfectly over his white button-up shirt. His striped purple and yellow tie was in the right spot, and his black pressed trousers were creaseless. Mycroft took one final glance, smiling at his school’s pendant of the yellow and purple coat of arms. With a nervous smile, he grabbed his rucksack and black penny-loafers. 

His mum dropped him off at the front entrance behind the buses. He had to quickly dodge her kiss as he scrambled out of the Ferrari. “Mycie! Remember, don’t let the other kids’ words get to you! You’re my perfect baby!” She yelled after him, tearing up as her baby was off to secondary school. “Muuuum!” He groaned, glaring at her. “I love you too, pumpkin prince!” Nearly sobbing, she blew him a kiss and sped off to park for work. With both of her boys in school now, she could take up her job as a mathematician again. To Mycroft’s luck, she was the teacher for tenth years. Despite him being a tenth year, he had the misfortune of being too intelligent. So, Mycroft was off to his classes. His thirteenth year classes…

Now, Mycroft could have skipped grades if he wanted to. Hell, he could’ve graduated. However, his mother said that it was unhealthy, and that a /boy/ (of course she didn’t say man) of his age must get the social experience with /kids/ his age.

 

Whittford Academy was a small secondary and sixth form school. It was mainly dedicated to the privacy of the public. Meaning, it was a public school only for three neighbourhoods in County Durham. It wasn’t expensive, but it would be if the school didn’t have such a great demand from the UK. Multiple great politicians and scientists came from the small posh school. Mycroft knew he’d be one of them.

The school had a capacity of six hundred students, and only three hundred and twenty-eight had attended. Sadly, however, the smaller amount of students didn’t prove helpful as he got on campus. Immediately two guys sitting on a table looked over at him. “Oi posh gingy! Stealing some souls today, or are you too good for that? You look like a fuckin’ dork!” The first guy hollered, nudging his buddy in the side. “Nah, Jeremy, he looks more like ‘em fags that me father told me to stay ‘way from!” They both laughed, watching the ginger glare and walk past. Perhaps he’d let the snide comments get to him, but it tends to not hurt as bad when you’ve been hearing the same things for years. Apparently he’s always looked like a gay man, and Mycroft was starting to agree. He always denied and cringed at the thought of himself with a fellow male, but the previous year’s P.E. class was starting to make him think otherwise. Mycroft had been only finding attractiveness in males. He was trying to see the same in females, but they just looked almost displeasing to his eye…

Mycroft walked up to his locker, luckily getting purple rather than yellow. Their school colours seemed to be all over campus. Banners, lockers, and decorations coloured purple and yellow were everywhere. He definitely liked the colour purple, but it was a bit too much. 

His long nimble fingers fumbled with the lock before it was open and filled with his books. The ginger closed the metal door, only to be pushed back and into what used to be open. “You that Holmes kid right?” Mycroft nodded quickly, bracing for knuckles to hit his jaw in a moment. A smirk formed on the jock’s face. He was still firmly holding the tall but scrawny boy. “Well she’s hot. I’d shag her so hard.” He let go, still watching Mycroft who looked disgruntled. “Ah-... O-okay?” He grumbled, quickly trying to run from the guys. From down the hall he could hear them talking. “Dimmo was right. He totally is a fag. Think he had a boner.” Mycroft tried to blink away the swelling anger and tears as he scurried to his class. ‘204, Maths year 13.’ He thought to himself, and followed the corridor numbers. ‘202… 203… 204.’ 

 

Mycroft hesitantly reached for the handle to pull the door open. Instead, a man with grey hair and glasses on the rim of his nose pulled it open. “Ah. Mycroft Holmes. You look just like your father. Have a seat.” Mycroft nodded and hurried to his seat. He scanned his eyes around to see an absolutely gorgeous brunet sitting across from him. He had shaggy brown hair, tan skin, and eyes as dark as milk chocolate. However, he couldn’t look long, for a tall woman of around 5’9” came striding in, crossed the room, and sat on the brunet’s lap. In Mycroft’s opinion, she was drop dead gorgeous. (Except, he wouldn’t ever date her. He’d come to the conclusion that he liked men.) She had straight blonde hair that came to her collar bone, beautiful olive skin, eyes brown and beautiful like the brunet’s, and an amazing figure. She definitely looked too beautiful to be real. She was breath taking, but not as breath taking as the man whom she sat on. He was astounding. He definitely had muscles. Mycroft could see them through the brunet's uniform as he wrapped his arms around the goddess. Soon, Mycroft could no longer see the god. He was engulfed in the girl as the two started to make-out in the middle of the classroom. Mycroft sighed, wishing to be the girl on his lap. He hadn’t noticed he was still staring at the couple until the two departed when the bell rang. The beautiful blonde hopped off his lap, they exchanged their ‘I love you’s’, and soon the brunet looked at Mycroft who was still staring. He could feel the hairs stand up on his arms as he looked into those eyes, he felt as if his soul was leaving his body. The brunet gave one last smile before turning to Mr Korzac, the math teacher. Mycroft knew from that point that it would definitely be an interesting year.

**Author's Note:**

> SO........ There was chapter one! I do hope that you enjoyed it. This story will be in Mycroft's perspective, mainly because I role play as Mycroft everyday. I have a connection to the ginger, and an obsession. How can you not?! Have you seen Mark Gatiss? He's an adorable kitten.
> 
> Please leave your comments. I plan on updating every Friday, but only if you comment wanting more! 
> 
> I am pretty busy with marching band until November, so if I don't update every Friday, don't worry. It could come Saturday, Sunday, some other day, or in like two weeks... Oops. I can't help it! I'm a busy Mycroft. Sorry if this is sloppy. (The chapter and such.) This is my first publish on Archive Of Our Own. I've used Fanfiction.net previously, but forgot my newer login. So there's an unfinished Mystrade one on there. Oops. I'm really excited about this fanfiction. There will be drama and heartbreak, but once our favourite duo is together, there will be fluff. I also promise that there will be more Greg in my next chapter. This was the introduction into a story! Thank you so much for reading my first chapter.  
> ~MycroftSebastianHolmes


End file.
